


Nothing You Can Do

by colaslush



Category: Sam & Max
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied Suicidal Actions, M/M, Post Episode 305, Sad Ending, The Devil’s Playhouse, implied suicide, this is just depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26896765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colaslush/pseuds/colaslush
Summary: AU where Max couldn’t fix the elevator
Relationships: Max/Sam (Sam & Max)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Nothing You Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first one-shot in a while so please enjoy!

It had been almost two weeks since the incident. Max wasn’t doing so well, he refused to let anybody remind him that Sam was gone, he hid himself away while he tried to repair that damned elevator. His heart really couldn’t take much more of this, it was just one fail after another.

Everyone tried their best to get him out and to do anything else other than wallow alone and work himself to death, but he wouldn’t let them, he’d just stay hiding away until he was able to see him again. It was the only way he was able to fix things.

The quiet knock at the door made Max peer over, being pulled out of his own thoughts. Sybil stepped in gently and he quickly backed up a bit. “ _If you’re here to tell me to go outside the answer is no_.” He instantly snapped.

Sybil frowned at him, but not really in an angry way. It was this sort of sympathetic gaze that made Max sick. It was a look of pity, and Max never really found that the most comforting.

“Max, you’ve been in here working for almost a week straight, you have to take a break.” She spoke with concern, as she walked over to him. Max just kept backing up, which made her stop abruptly in her tracks. “ _Max_ -“

“ _Get out._ ” He demanded curtly, and looked at her with a masked look of anger on his face.

“ _Sam wouldn’t have wanted-_ “

“ _ **SAM IS DEAD.**_ ”

The room went quiet. The only thing Max could hear was his own shaky breathing, as he stared at her shocked face. It quite honestly made him guilty, but the overwhelming feeling of anger flooded anything else out of his system. He suddenly felt tears start to fill his eyes, which he quickly began to blink away.

Sybil began to take a few steps closer, but Max quickly reacted, and in a flash his gun was out, and pointed at her. “ _I SAID GET OUT!_ ” He screamed, his hands trembling as he held it up. 

Her reaction was what he’d expected, and she turned around to leave. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? To have to suffer by himself? The constant failure and the reoccurring memories of his partner? It hurt, but it was his burden.

He walked over after she had been long gone, and slammed the door with what energy he had left, and tossed the gun across the room.

Everyday since it happened he could hear Sam’s voice. The more he thought about him the more his heart sank to his gut. His hands began to tremble, he hadn’t been eating or drinking much lately, he just beat himself up over and over if he tried to rest for just a moment. His small hands looked almost beaten up, from the constant attempts to repair it. He wasn’t doing well, that’s definite. 

He almost looked delicate, like if you grazed a finger over his snowy fur he would fall apart in just seconds. It wasn’t like him, like he was a completely different person. Without Sam, Max felt like nothing, and that he needed him back to be a whole person again. 

The emptiness he felt was the worst of it all, like he couldn’t feel anything but anger and dejection. He kept at it for weeks, but his spirits slowly fell to the floor with each failed result.

Today was no different.

He was up all night repairing it, doing his best to make it work. His eyes glued to the machine, his heart thumping in his chest as he stared. He hoped this was it, this was his ticket out of hell. He hoped it would work this time.

Max slowly stepped inside and took a deep breath, his tall ears standing up at attention. He started it up, and closed his eyes. He didn’t bare to look. He heard a sharp click, and then smoke filled his vision as he opened his eyes once more.

“ _Are you SERIOUS?_ ” He yelled, his vision flooded with tears as he stood there, that familiar anger surging through his body. He got out, and just started kicking at it. “ _Damn piece of junk!_ ” He snapped. 

His breathing was shallowed, and the smoke that filled his lungs made him cough as his legs collapsed under him. Almost as if on cue, he let out a blood curdling scream. He trembled as he held himself. It was terrible. That unfamiliarity of losing over and over, it felt like he was being punished. It wasn’t fair, he didn’t understand why the world was suddenly just punishing him like this. 

He just wanted to see him again. The world just seemed to shatter into itself whenever he thought of him. His brown fur, the way he spoke and how it was smooth and his specific word choice. He would kill to hear it again. Tears began to pour quicker, each one feeling like acid on his face. Each drop formed a small puddle in the ground, and his breath began to hitch once again as each weak sob escaped him. His ears pinned to the back of his head, and he finally felt defeated.

He never liked that word. _Defeated_. It was never a word he’d hear Sam or himself use when they were together. They never really were let down. They always seemed to come through in the end. Now it didn’t feel like that. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. The memories of Sam just began to slowly slither from his head. He felt numb, like everything about him was gone. That anxious feeling that struck into him whenever tears began to pour was the worst of it all. Was it dread? He couldn’t really tell anymore.

He stared at his gun across the floor, and he started panicking again. Thoughts of using it seemed to crash into him. He felt sick as his body seemed to slump more, and he kept staring. His heart was heavy in his chest, and it was all he could really hear. His quiet sobs seemed to gradually get louder when he reached for it.


End file.
